UNIVfcKSIU  Of  ILLINOIS 

URBAN* 


Univ.of  in.  Library 


5j 

a/ 


MAGIC 


RIVER  ©ESCMUTESc 


74 


is-*-  o.  m.  fringlc: 


NAMES  AND  LOCALITY  OF  THE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


First  -  Pringle  Falls,  thirty  miles  above,  and  south  of  Bend. 
Second  — River  just  above  Pringle  Falls. 

Third- -Paulena  Falls,  twenty  miles  south-east  of  Pringle 
Falls. 

Fourth— Benham  Falls,  eighteen  miles  north-east  of  Pringle 
Falls. 

Fifth— Black  Butte,  twenty-five  miles  north  of  Pringle  Falls. 
Sixth— Odell  Butte,  a  few  miles  west  of  Pringle  Falls. 
Seventh— Lava  Butte  and  Lava  bed,  fourteen  miles  north¬ 
east  of  Pringle  Falls. 


UBHARY 

UNIVERSITY  Of  ILUNoh 

URBANA 


/MI 


)ES€HUTES, 


O,  M.  PRINGLE, 


Jn  dreamland  I  pensively  mused,  wandering  on  thy  magic  shore 
Where  the  foot  of  civilized  man  had  never  never  trod  before, 
Tell  me  thy  birth,  the  origin  of  thy  titan  river  fountains 

Leaping,  shimmering,  laughing,  rushing  from  many  shattered 
rugged  mountains, 

The  echoing  came  back  ask  the  cinerated  mountains  and  hills 
The  zephers  that  softly  sough  through  these  sylvan  forests 
and  gushing  rills. 


Ask  the  primitive  habitants  whose  footprints  show  dimly  upon 
thy  shore, 

Ask  their  unwritten  legends  and  their  unwritten  lore, 

The  ages  that  witnessed  creation’s  dawn  and  her  labor’s  mighty 
tread 

Whence  all  these  vitrified  plains,  hills  and  mountains  so 
vastly  spread. 


J  lf  1  turifecf  ‘*t  o’ 1  vitr  eou  s  conic-hill  mountain  titan  fountain  the 

.OTo'lod  bo'll  aov, 

ages  silent  now 

In  noH  lincertam  language  the  echoes  came  clear  and  distinct 
!  >  j 1  j iirtmay  know 

In  ages  long  passed  the  fire  gods  reigned  supreme,  o’er  this 

a/sea  of^molten  lava  beat  and  surged  from  shore  to 
shore  on  every  hand. 


o  I 


On  earth  such  a  Plutonic  inferno  shall  never  again  bear  sway. 

A  Stygian  night,  a  night  of  sulphureous  clouds  obscured 
the  light  of  day 

When  Electro's  heated  breath  fanned  anew  the  flames,  anew 
the  flames  ignited, 

Then  all  life,  all  nature  was  dead  and  seemed  forever 
blighted, 

To  the  east,  the  west,  the  north  and  south  lay  an  incandescent 
sea  weird  and  wild, 

The  while  the  Gorgons  savage  visage  frowned  and  Jupiter 
and  Juno  smiled. 


LIRRARY 

'  N'VRSITV  OF  ILLINOIS 


Then  rang  out  the  mighty  strokes  of  Vulcan’s  ponderous 
sledges, 

Pealing  forth  from  the  shattered  cliffs  and  cinerated  ledges 
That  heaved  the  molten  ocean  into  bleak  ragged  fields  and 
mountain  high, 

And  belching  thunders  echoed  back  the  thunders  of  Jove  in 
the  sky 

Far  over  this  seething  caldron  for  many  a  league  and  many  a 
mile, 

Sun  could  ne’er  pierce  the  pall  of  sulphureous  murkey  dark¬ 
ness  the  while. 


Placid  Neptune  reigned  along  Pacific’s  tranquil  but  fruitful 
plain, 

Resolved  evermore  to  drown  this  torrid  sea  with  fructifying 
rain 

When  thus  roused  by  earth’s  convulsed  sulphur-fumed  and 
heated  air, 

To  transform  this  torrid  sea  into  a  fertile  land,  fruitful  and 
fair. 


Neptune  then  evoked  Eoleous  the  soft  propitious  south  winds 
to  blow 

And  quench  this  burning  land  and  cool  this  heated  incan¬ 
descent  glow, 

Laden  with  benign  vapors  from  old  Pacific’s  wide  ocean  realm, 

To  flood  these  fire  gods  and  the  raging  fiery  carnival  o’er- 
whelm. 

From  ocean  fountains  deep  over  Cascadia’s  lofty  mountain 
peak, 

To  extinguish  fires,  erode  hills,  rocks,  and  transform  weird 
wilds  so  bleak, 

Thus  the  pouring  floods  of  snow,  hail  and  rain  so  copiously 
fell 

Transformed  all  mountains  conic  hill  into  verdant  plain  and 
fruitful  dell. 


Then  from  many  bleak  cinerated  volcanic  mountain 
Burst  tQ  the  light  of  day  crystal  river  fountain, 

As  from  the  depths  of  Pluto’s  Hadean  caverns  dark  and  deep 
Clothed  with  livid  green,  forest  dell,  and  meadows  forever 
keep. 


E’er  while  Sylva  and  Pomona  with  germs  of  fruiting  shrubs 
and  forest  trees, 

Upon  mountains  barren  heights,  conic  hills,  valleys  and 
gentle  leas, 

Ceres  and  Flora  with  bountiful  supplies  strewed  with  liberal 
hand 

Now  sylvan  bowers  and  forest  grand  and  flowering  meadows 
clothe  the  land. 


Now  the  willow,  birch  and  laurel  their  lofty  branches  spread, 
The  symmetric  pine,  fir,  larch  and  hemlock  lift  aloft  their 
stately  head, 

The  shepherd’s  bleating  flocks  and  lowing  herds  in  peace  and 
plenty  nightly  fold, 

Where  once  billowy  seas  of  fire  and  Ocheran  rivers  for  ages 
rolled. 


But  now  thy  fructifying  waters  are  strewn  over  the  desert 
plain, 

The  farm,  the  cottage  home,  the  loaded  orchard  and  fields 
of  waving  grain, 

The  village  school  house,  the  urchins’  happy  sports,  laugh  and 

yell, 

From  the  spires  of  the  hamlet  church  is  heard  the  Christian’s 
civilizing  bell. 


Now  farewell,  but  flow  on  mysterious,  magic,  mystic  river, 

On  forever  through  forest,  dell,  grassy  meadows  and  sedges 
thy  waters  quiver, 

On  through  hills  and  mountains  and  rocky  gorges  thy  waters 
foam, 

On  and  on  through  old  Columbia’s  tide  to  thy  own  ocean 
home. 


O.  M.  PRINGLE. 


EXPEDIENCE  € DW  AM 


EMIGRANT  BOY  IN  1846. 


It  was  on  the  15th  day  of  April,  1816,  that  a  family 
of  nine  persons,  consisting  of  father,  mother,  three  sisters 
and  four  brothers,  left  Warren  County, Missouri,  equipped 
with  two  ox  teams  and  provisioned  for  a  six  months  jour¬ 
ney  of  over  two  thousand  miles,  across  the  almost  un¬ 
known.  savage  wilderness  of  wild,  savage  beasts  and 
men,  of  vast  plains  of  sand  and  desert  wastes  and  wild 
and  rugged  mountains  to  the  then  Territory  of  Oregon, 
upon  the  sunset  shores  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  The  per¬ 
sonal^  of  the  above  family  were  as  follows :  Virgil  K. 
and  Pherna  T.  Pringle  (father  and  mother),  Virgilia  E.. 
Clark  S.,  Alero  M.,  Sarelia  L.,  and  Emma  P.  Pringle, 
Charles  P.  Fulerton,  and  Octavius  M.  Pringle,  the  writer 
of  this  narrative. 

When  arriving  upon  the  frontiers  of  Missouri,  we  were 
accompained  by  our  grandmother,  Mrs.  Tabitha  Brown, 
who,  after  arriving  in  Oregon,  became  the  principal 
founder  of  the  Pacific  University  at  Forest  Grove,  and 
several  of  our  old  neighbors,  making  sixteen  wagons  in 
the  company,  but  later,  while  passing  through  the  Terri¬ 
tory  of  Kansas,  we  were  joined  by  enough  more  to  swell 
the  number  to  sixty-nine  wagons  manned  by  one  hundred 
and  fifty  men  organized  for  defense  against  the  perfidious 
and  treacherous  savages  as  best  we  might.  To  the  imagi¬ 
nation  of  the  writer  of  this  article  (then  a  lad  just  passed 
14  years  of  age,  but  at  the  time  of  this  writing  near  four 
score  years),  to  see  this  long  concourse  of  wagons  as  the 
sun  sank  to  the  western  horizon  each  day  as  they  swung 
around  into  a  circle  forming  a  corral  as  a  means  of  de¬ 
fense  in  which  to  gather  and  protect  our  stock,  upon 
which  our  very  existence  depended,  the  night  guards 
stationed  at  the  opening  of  the  corral,  the  grave  and 
anxious  expressions  upon  the  countenance  of  parents  and 
elders  of  the  company,  the  free-go-easy  sports  and  shouts 
of  the  youth  around  the  camp  fires,  the  love  making  of 
those  a  little  older,  that  often  resulted  in  nuptials  later  on 
and  in  laying  the  foundation  of  many  a  family  in  the  new 
Oregon,  and  then  in  the  morning  to  watch  the  unwinding 


corral  slowly  stretch  out  over  the  plain  and  anon  wind 
in  and  out  in  its  serpentine  course  over  hills  and  moun¬ 
tains  where  the  scene  was  ever  changing  and  ever  new, 
was  and  in  still  a  vivid  panorama  that  has  never  faded 
from  my  mind,  although  sixty-five  years  have  since 
flown  by. 

Little  did  any  of  us  then  think  that  we  were  going  to 
a  land  abounding  in  inexhaustible  resources,  to  plant 
and  lay  the  foundation  of  an  empire  of  progress  and  de¬ 
velopment,  whose  benign  light  was  destined  to  radiate 
to  the  East,  West,  North  and  South  and  bless  the  worlf 
with  a  new  vibrating  pulsation  of  progress  and  brotherly 
fellowship  it  had  never  felt  before,  an  empire  that  would 
not  only  spread  its  benign  influence  along  the  shore  of 
America,  and  over  its  hills  and  mountains,  and  over  the 
inhabitants  of  the  older  states  of  this  union,  but  over 
the  orient  and  the  rest  of  the  Occident  as  well. 

After  many  months  of  weary  travel  over  scorching, 
sandy  deserts,  fertile  plains  and  valleys,  rough  and  rugged 
mountains,  passing  through  many  Indian  tribes,  some 
friendly  others  hostile,  finally  with  teams  worn  out,  with 
many  of  them  perished  and  left  by  the  wayside,  with  pro¬ 
visions  so  nearly  exhausted  that  every  one  was  on  short 
rations,  with  many  members  of  the  company  buried  in 
unmarked  graves  by  the  wayside  and  every  few  days 
adding  new  graves  to  the  number,  with  those  who  sur¬ 
vived  hungry,  weak,  travel  worn  and  discouraged,  in  this 
condition  and  late  in  the  year  with  winter  storms  beating 
upon  us,  we  reached  the  southern  border  of  the  Terri¬ 
tory  of  Oregon,  a  vast  territory  at  that  time  extending 
from  California  on  the  south  to  Canada  on  the  north, 
and  from  the  Pacific  Ocean  on  the  west  to  the  summit 
of  the  Rocky  Mountains  on  the  east.  This  vast  territory 
is  now  divided  into  four  states,  namely,  Washington, 
Idaho,  Utah  and  Oregon,  whose  wealth  of  resources  runs 
up  into  billions  of  dollars  in  grazing,  agriculture,  timber 
and  mines  of  a  great  variety  of  minerals  and  metals, 
including  vast  deposits  of  coal,  all  of  which  is  now  being 
developed,  but  to  us  poor  immigrants  it  was  all  worth¬ 
less.  Pood  and  shelter  was  all  that  had  any  value  to  us. 
Many  of  our  wagons  were  left  to  rot  in  the  mountains,  as 
the  teams  that  remained  were  not  sufficient  to  move  the 
empty  wagons,  yet  we  were  nearly  three  hundred  miles 
away  from  succor  or  help  and  the  streams  were  beginning 
to  swell  from  the  cold  winter  rains.  The  extremity  had 
now  come  with  famine  and  starvation  staring  us  in  the 
face.  After  holding  a  family  consultation  it  was  decided 
that  the  writer  of  this  narrative,  Octavius  M.,  should  take 
the  only  animal  of  the  horse  kind  (a  mare)  and  go  with 


a  couple  of  young  men  who  were  going  over  the  only 
mountain  range  that  intervened  between  us  and  the  little- 
settlement  in  the  Willamette  Valley,  which  was  three  hun¬ 
dred  miles  away,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  old  Methodist 
Mission  then  known  as  Salem,  now  the  capital  of  the 
State  of  Oregon.  I  was  to  accompany  them  only  as  far 
as  a  depot  where  I  could  get  provisions  which  had  been 
sent  out  by  this  settlement  spoken  of  above  for  the  relief 
of  immigrants  that  had  such  prospect  of  perishing.  This 
depot  was  about  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  miles  away, 
in  the  upper  stretches  of  the  Willamette  Valley.  It  took 
us  three  days  to  reach  the  depot.  Here  I  expected  to  meet 
some  parties  that  would  be  going  south  to  assist  friends 
in  need  of  help,  but  in  this  I  was  destined  to  be  disap¬ 
pointed  and  camped  one  night  at  this  depot.  You  may 
well  imagine  the  disappointment  and  dreadful  fear  that 
came  over  this  boy  of  14  years  when  it  was  known  that 
his  return  trip  must  be  made  alone,  and  that  through  a 
wild  country  uninhabited  save  by  wild  beasts  and  pos¬ 
sibly  wild  Indians.  But  with  undaunted  courage  and 
many  misgivings  he  resolved  to  show  no  cowardice  and 
thinking  of  parents,  brothers  and  sisters  who  might  be 
suffering  for  food  resolved  to  make  the  attempt. 

The  next  morning  (one  long  to  be  remembered  by  that 
boy)  after  lashing  upon  the  poor  mare  as  much  dried  peas 
and  wheat  graham  flour  as  was  thought  best  she  could 
carry  in  her  emaciated  condition,  without  my  weight 
being  added,  I  started  on  the  return  trip.  It  was  one 
of  those  dark,  gloomy,  foggy  days  with  a  constant  driz¬ 
zling  rain,  and  under  the  tall  overshadowing  forests, 
dripping  with  water,  it  was  little  better  than  night.  After 
several  miles  travel  I  came  to  the  mountain  trail,  and  had 
not  gone  far  up  the  mountain  when  a  very  large  bear 
track  came  into  the  trail  just  ahead  of  me.  It  looked  very 
fresh,  the  muddy  water  was  still  filtering  into  the  tracks 
in  places.  I  expected  at  every  turn  in  the  trail  to  come 
upon  the  monster  that  made  them,  but  after  following 
them  miles,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  to  my  great  relief  it 
turned  off  of  the  trail.  But,  directly,  I  heard  a  snort 
peculiar  to  the  bear  and  a  crashing  among  the  sallal 
brush  that  thrilled  me  with  fear,  nearly  lifting  the  hair 
off  of  my  head,  but  presently  it  was  manifest  that  he  was 
more  afraid  of  my  outfit  than  I  had  been  of  him,  and 
plodding  along  I  met  with  no  adventure  the  rest  of  the 
day.  But,  lacka-day !  as  the  sun  began  to  sink  into  the 
west,  and  as  I  came  to  a  promontory  that  overlooked  my 
prospective  camping  place  where  I  expected  to  meet  some 
of  the  advanced  immigrants  with  whom  I  could  camp, 
you  can  again  imagine  my  sad  and  fearful  loneliness  and 


the  dread  of  spending-  the  night  alone  in  such  a  wilderness. 
The  argument  went  on  in  my  mind  whether  to  camp  or 
struggle  on  all  night,  or  until  I  met  the  company  I  was 
looking  for.  But  as  myself  and  horse  were  both  tired  and 
hungry,  though  I  felt  but  little  of  the  pangs  of  the  latter 
and  but  meager  means  at  my  command  to  gratify  it,  if  ever 
so  keen,  but  for  the  poor  mare  food  was  in  superabund¬ 
ance,  as  the  grass  was  like  a  meadow  waving  in  the  soft 
south  wind  and  nearly  as  green  as  the  midsummer,  and 
the  thought  of  losing  the  trail  during  the  night  determined 
me  to  camp.  I  selected  a  large  fir  tree,  that  stood  upon 
the  outskirts  of  a  grove  of  woods,  with  drooping  boughs, 
under  whose  roof-like  shelter  it  looked  as  though  it  had 
not  rained  for  half  a  century,  but  I  was  not  the  first 
one  that  it  had  sheltered  from  the  storms,  as  there  were 
the  relics  of  an  Indian  camp  still  remaining,  and  selecting 
the  best  spot  of  grass  and  picketing  out  the  mare  I  ar¬ 
ranged  my  camp  as  best  I  could.  As  the  darkness  slowly 
crept  over  the  valleys  and  mountains  the  rain  ceased  and 
the  dark,  gloomy  clouds  broke  up  into  rifts  and  in  orderly 
procession  were  drifting  majectically  to  the  north  before 
a  soft  south  wind,  while  the  nearly  full  moon  was  playing 
hide  and  seek  with  the  rifted  clouds,  amidst  the  almost 
constant  clang  and  squawk  of  the  water  fowl  upon  their 
annual  migrations  south,  and,  in  the  dark  woods  close  by, 
the  ,  hoo-ou-hoo-hoo-ho-o-o-hoo-o-osh  of  the  big  owl 
chorused  by  the  chilling  and  lonesome  producing  K-a-z-e 
az-zz-z-e-a-rr-r  of  the  little  schreech  owl,  accompained  by 
the  long,  drawn  out  lonesome  lament  of  the  ever  present 
coyote.  This  was  the  serenade  that  accompanied  my 
preparations  for  supper,  which  consisted  of  a  half  pint 
of  graham  flour  moistened  in  a  tin  cup  (the  only  vessel 
of  any  kind  I  had).  When  this  was  eaten  I  then  pre¬ 
pared  my  bed  by  spreading  a  quilt  over  some  hazel  rods 
already  in  position  under  the  fir  trees  (left  by  some 
Indian  camper)  and  then  wrapped  the  blanket  around 
me  as  best  I  could  to  go  to  the  sleep  of  forgetfulness  if 
possible,  but  this  was  not  possible. 

Before  retiring  I  examined  some  ash  trees,  that  stood 
within  fifty  paces  of  my  bed,  that  I  could  easily  climb 
into  if  I  were  disturbed  by  some  wild  beast  of  prey,  if 
I  had  a  chance  to  reach  it  before  being  caught.  Being 
weary  and  boy-like  I  would  ever  and  anon  drop  into  a 
sleep  only  to  be  startled  by  my  own  fears  or  the  bark 
of  the  coyote  and  the  squak  of  the  birds.  About  mid¬ 
night  I  was  awakened  by  the  crackling  of  the  brush  close 
by.  In  an  instant  I  was  on  my  feet,  and  hearing  the 
heavy  breathing  of  some  large  animal  I  gathered  up  my 
belongings  and  threw  the  sack  of  precious  peas  and 


graham  flour  over  a  low  limb,  then  climbing  higher  up,  to 
a  place  where  I  could  sit  with  some  ease,  I  wrapped  the 
two  pieces  of  bedding  about  me  and  literally  went  to 
roost  for  the  rest  of  the  night.  Thus  the  night  wore  away 
while  the  serenade  around  me  went  on.  Imagine  my 
chargin  and  disgust  next  morning  when  I  discovered  the 
cause  of  my  fright,  and  flight  into  the  tree,  was  an  old 
emacitated  immigrant  cow  left,  because  she  could  go  no 
further,  to  either  winter  it  through  or  perish  (I  learned 
in  the  spring  that  she  was  found  all  right  and  in  good 
condition). 

After  breakfast,  which  consisted  of  graham  flour  and 
cold  water,  I  started  on  the  trail  and  resolved  not  to 
spend  another  night  like  the  one  just  passed.  I  reflected 
and  felt  it  would  be  better  to  camp  with  hostile  Indians 
and  be  butchered  outright  than  to  be  tortured  with  such 
fear  as  I  had  endured,  and  I  resolved  to  keep  the  trail 
all  the  next  night  if  I  did  not  find  some  one  to  camp  with, 
either  civilized  or  uncivilized.  Oh !  if  I  could  only  meet 
those  dear  ones  once  more  before  nightfall. 

As  I  was  passing  through  the  Umpqua  Valley,  wild 
geese  and  deer  were  all  about  me.  They  were  very  tame. 
The  deer  would  gather  in  clumps  among  the  oaks  on  the 
hills  and  gaze  down  upon  me  and  then  scurry  away.  In 
the  afternoon  I  discovered  an  Indian  wickeyup,  con¬ 
structed  partially  of  canvas  and  partly  of  fir  boughs,  hard 
by  the  trail  that  I  must  pass.  I  hesitated  but  a  moment 
as  I  knew  full  well  I  could  not  hide  from  them  if  they 
wished  to  do  me  evil,  so  putting  on  a  bold  front  I  went 
up  to  their  camp  and  found  it  occupied  only  by  squaws 
and  children.  The  men  were  out  hunting  deer.  These 
women  used  a  few  English  words  and  I  soon  learned  that 
they  came  from  Lees  Mission  at  Salem  and  they  had  some 
of  the  utensils  of  civiligation,  all  of  which  relieved  my 
fears  wonderfully.  They  took  care  of  my  things  and  my¬ 
self  as  though  I  had  been  a  brother,  and  there  was  noth¬ 
ing  to  fear  from  them  if  the  men  were  as  friendly  as  the 
women  and  children.  When  the  men  came  in  they  re¬ 
ported  the  killing  of  fifteen  deer  that  day.  During  the 
night  the  squaws  prepared  a  saddle  of  vension.  The 
major  part  of  the  meat  had  been  cut  off  for  drying,  but 
the  remainder  was  kept  before  the  fire  roasting  and  dry¬ 
ing,  and  in  the  morning  they  gave  this  to  me  to  lunch 
upon  as  I  tramped  along  the  trail.  When  I  first  came  to 
the  camp  they  set  out  a  pot  of  boiled  vension  ribs  and 
back  bone  without  salt  or  any  seasoning  whatever,  but 
my  appetite  did  not  need  any.  When  the  men  came  I 
found  I  was  among  friends  and  that  I  had  nothing  to 
fear  from  these  people.  They  treated  me  as  royally  as 


though  I  had  been  a  prince,  or  nearer  of  kin  than  grandpa 
Adam  would  make  us.  Being  assigned  a  corner  in  the 
tepee  I  rolled  up  and  slept  the  sleep  of  peace  and  quiet 
dreams. 

In  the  morning  my  dark  hosts  were  as  attentive  as  the 
evening  before,  having  horse  and  pack  ready  with  that 
hunk  of  roast  vension  to  lunch  upon  by  the  way  and  also 
a  whole  carcass  of  a  deer  for  my  people,  for  which  I  was 
to  pay  them  in  powder,  lead  and  caps.  When  we  came  thus 
far  thus  equipped  I  struck  the  lonely  trail  not  knowing 
when,  but  hoping  to  meet  the’ loved  ones  before  nightfall. 

Sometime  near  noon  as  I  was  trudging  along,  munch¬ 
ing  roast  vension  and  wondering  with  anxious  fear  if  the 
boy  were  doomed  to  experience  another  night  alone  in  this 
wilderness,  I  presently  rounded  a  sharp  point  that  jutted 
out  into  the  valley  and  I  heard  a  welcome,  familiar  voice 
just  around  this  point  that  sounded  more  precious  than 
that  of  an  angel,  it  was  that  of  my  brother  Clary  as  he 
exclaimed,  Ge  up  Buck !  addressed  to  an  always  delin¬ 
quent  ox.  A  few  rods  further  and  two  wagons,  that  had 
been  our  home  for  seven  months,  and  the  loved  ones  were 
in  sight  moving  slowly  along  towards  me.  Oh !  the  emo¬ 
tions  that  swelled  and  heaved  in  the  boy's  bosom  with 
the  deepest  emotions  of  thankfulness  to  God,  our  Father 
in  heaven,  whom  this  boy  had  learned  to  love  and  trust 
some  years  ago,  and  in  those  hours  of  darkness  and 
fear  had  been  his  only  solace  and  trust  to  protect  him 
from  the  savages  surrounding  him.  Boy  as  he  was,  no 
one  can  realize  the  consolation  it  was  to  feel  that  God 
could  protect  his  children,  and  when  he  saw  father, 
mother,  brothers  and  sisters  all  intact,  and  was  embraced 
in  the  arms  of  a  loving  mother  and  smothered  with  sobs 
and  kisses  of  gratitude  and  thankfulness  for  the  return 
of  her  boy,  his  mother  declared  she  would  never  again 
let  one  of  her  children  go  alone  into  such  a  wilderness, 
saying  that  the  vision  of  her  boy  being  torn  by  wild 
beasts  or  tortured  by  savages  would  startle  her  in  her 
sleep  and  distort  her  dreams,  they  having  heard  nothing 
of  me  nor  I  of  them  for  six  days,  averring  that  she  would 
rather  we  had  all  perished  together  than  endure  the 
agonies  of  the  last  six  days.  But  happily  we  were  all  to¬ 
gether  once  more  with  no  fear  of  savages,  as  most  of  the 
Indians  were  gone  and  the  few  that  were  in  these  valleys 
were  friendly,  or  on  their  way  to  the  happy  hunting 
grounds  beyond. 

After  these  greetings  and  joys  had  sufficiently  sub¬ 
sided,  the  first  good  camping  place  was  the  scene  of  a 
feast  of  boiled  peas,  roast  vension  and  graham  bread, 
which  all  made  a  bountiful  feast.  From  this  on  our  pro- 


gress  was  slow,  only  a  few  miles  each  day.  One  day 
brought  us  to  the  Indian  camp  where  I  had  lodged  two 
nights  before,  and  owing  to  the  weakened  condition  of 
the  teams  and  the  wet  and  soft  state  of  the  ground,  we 
determined  to  remain  here  three  days  to  recruit,  and  to 
bury  one  of  our  fellow  travelers,  a  young  lady  of  about 
18  years  of  age,  and  also  to  repair  shoes  and  make  new 
ones  for  those  that  had  none  to  repair. 

Father  and  myself  were  practical  shoemakers,  having 
run  a  shoe  shop  while  in  Missouri,  and  had  with  us  a 
small  supply  of  both  upper  and  sole  leather  for  sqch 
emergencies,  also  a  kit  of  cobblers’  tools.  While  here  we 
made  one  pair  of  shoes  for  an  Indian  and  in  exchange 
received  the  carcass  of  three  fine,  large  deer. 

A  week’s  travel  brought  us  over  the  Calapooia  Moun¬ 
tains  into  the  Willamette  Valley  to  a  point  just  above 
where  the  City  of  Eugene  now  stands.  Here  the  teams 
utterly  gave  out  and  could  pull  the  wagons  no  further 
and  two  of  the  oxen  died  under  the  cold  rains  and  wet 
snowfall..  Just  what  to  do  in  this  extremity  was  the 
perplexing  question,  but  two  more  families  joined  us  here 
in  much  the  same  predictment  as  ourselves,  one  was  the 
Lebo  the  other  the  Mansfield  family,  the  father  of  the 
latter  being  an  expert  boatman.  As  our  teams  could 
carry  us  no  further,  he  proposed  to  utilize  the  Willamette 
River  and  build  a  boat  large  enough  to  carry  the  most 
of  us  and  our  goods  down  to  the  settlements,  as  it  was 
reported  that  there  were  no  falls  to  intervene.  This  was 
finally  decided  upon  as  the  only  alternative.  Then  with 
dull  and  insufficient  tools  we  attacked  a  very  large  fir 
tree  standing  near  the  river.  After  many  days’  labor  it 
was  finally  launched  a  few  days  before  Christmas,  The 
two  families  of  Messrs.  Lebo  and  Mansfield,  consisting 
of  nine  persons  and  all  their  effects,  went  aboard  this 
crude  craft  to  navigate  a  strange  river  that  no  white 
man  had  ever  explored,  but  the  voyage  proved  suc¬ 
cessful  and  they  finally  landed  safely  at  the  old  Method¬ 
ist  Mission  ten  miles  below  Salem  on  the  east  bank  of 
the  Willamette  River.  This  boat  or  canoe  was  used  for 
a  ferry  boat  at  this  place  for  several  years  after.  About 
the  time  these  people  had  the  boat  ready  to  sail,  an  uncle 
of  ours  came  from  Forest  Grove  to  our  relief  with  some 
provisions,  and  by  hiring  some  half  breed  French  that 
happened  to  come  along  with  a  number  of  pack  horses, 
father’s  family  was  enabled  to  make  the  rest  of  the  trip 
by  land  down  the  west  side  of  the  Willamette  River 
through  what  is  now  Lane,  Benton  and  Polk  Counties. 
Though  less  than  seventy-five  miles,  we  had  no  small 
task  as  we  had  to  cross  the  Long  Tom,  Mary ’s,Luckiamute 


and  Rickreall  Rivers  without  any  bridge  or  ferry,  and 
every  small,  insignificient  branch,  creek  and  swell  was 
a  swimming  river,  but,  nevertheless,  upon  Christmas  Day 
we  landed  at  Salem,  bare  foot,  weary  and  worn  out. 

Before  leaving  the  boat  building  camp,  all  the  immi¬ 
grants  who  had  got  this  far  realized  the  impossibility 
of  taking  their  stock  any  further,  so  they  joined  together 
and  arranged  for  three  men  to  remain  and  look  after  the 
stock  until  spring.  These  men  took  possession  of  an  un¬ 
finished  cabin  and  had  to  depend  upon  their  rifles  for  pro¬ 
tection  and  deer  for  food.  The  cabin  was  built  by  Mr. 
Eugene  Skinner,  the  founder  of  Eugene  City. 

Notwithstanding  all  the  vicissitudes  of  such  a  journey 
and  the  trying  ordeals  that  laid  low  so  many  of  our  travel¬ 
ing  companions  in  unmarked  graves  by  the  way,  yet  our 
family  of  pine  still  remained  nine.  It  seemed  as  if  the 
protection  of  God,  the  Heavenly  Father,  was  over  us,  as 
neither  sickness  nor  accidents,  to  speak  of,  happened  to  us 
in  all  these  months. 

We  had  just  got  comfortably  housed  when  it  began 
to  turn  cold  and  snowed  for  three  weeks,  and  we  would 
surely  have  perished  in  such  weather  had  we  not  reached 
shelter. 

When  we  reached  the  summit  of  the  Polk  County  hills 
just  west  of  Salem,  we  looked  down  upon  Salem,  prairies 
bordered  with  grand  forests,  and  settler’s  cabins  and  a 
few  buildings  clustered  around  that  old  Mission  called  the 
Oregon  Institute,  now  the  Willamette  University,  and  it 
looked  as  if  a  scrap  of  civilization  had  made  a  tremen¬ 
dous  leap  of  three  thousand  miles  and  dropped  down  in 
this  beautiful  valley.  To  this  hungry,  foot-sore  and  weary 
boy  it  looked  like  a  paradise  and  the  end  of  a  long  and 
weary  pilgrimage. 


